


A Pliant Patient

by OrmondSacker



Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016), Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Fluff, Fluff without Plot, M/M, Nursing, Sick Chirrut, Sickfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-17
Updated: 2017-06-17
Packaged: 2018-11-15 08:32:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 498
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11227227
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OrmondSacker/pseuds/OrmondSacker
Summary: A lot of people think Chirrut is a terrible patient. Baze doesn’t blame them. After all Chirrut is often impatient, restless and with a clear temper only partially hidden by a calm veneer, by logic he should make the worst of patients.If he is, Baze has never experienced it.





	A Pliant Patient

**Author's Note:**

> @katwithacamera I know you didn’t ask for this and I sure didn’t plan it, but I heard it was your birthday so.... Happy Birthday.

The shutters on the window of their room are closed, leaving the room itself murky and dim. Baze can make out Chirrut’s form huddled up beneath the covers, curled up like a ball, back to the room and his hands tugged under his chin.

“Chirrut?” he calls softly, not wanting to wake him if he’s asleep.

“Mmmfff,” Chirrut mutters discontentedly as he rolls over on his back.

Baze sets the food tray he’s carrying down on their small table.

“Throat still hurt?” he asks.

Chirrut nods, looking up at him with bleary eyes. Baze sits down on the edge of the bed and puts a hand on Chirrut’s forehead.

“How are you feeling? You’re still burning.”

“Freezing.”

“I’ve brought you some hot stew and tea.” Chirrut makes a face and Baze smiles fondly, letting his fingers run through Chirrut’s bangs. The hair feels a little stiff and sticky to his fingers. “Eating will make you feel a little better.”

“Hmmm.”

“Let’s sit you up first so you can eat.” 

Baze puts an arm behind Chirrut’s shoulders, pulling him up, then rearranges the pillows behind Chirrut’s back. Chirrut puts his head on Baze shoulder as her does, nuzzling it with a sigh. Baze gives a huffing laugh as he gently tips Chirrut back on the pillows.

He fetches the tray, puts it over Chirrut’s lap and sits down again. When Baze picks up the spoon Chirrut gives him a strange look.

“Do I look so awful you intend to feed me?” Chirrut asks, his voice hoarse and heavy.

“You look terrible,” Baze replies, dipping the spoon into the stew.

Chirrut does look ghastly. His skin is much paler than it should be, his cheekbones each marked with an angry red splotch. His lips are cracking and his breathing is raspy and labored.

Accepting the spoonful Baze offers him Chirrut chews the boiled vegetables slowly before swallowing them somewhat laboriously.

“I must really worry you when you play nursemaid like this.”

Baze silently holds out the spoon again and Chirrut dutifully eats. At the fifth spoon Baze says, “you slept for more than a day and every breath sounded like you were going to choke.”

“Sounds terrible, glad I missed that.” A tiny smile plays across Chirrut’s lips, but he still accept the spoonful of stew willingly.

When he’s done with the stew and tea Chirrut sinks heavily back on the pillows and Baze can hear him half. strangling a groan.

“Tired, Cricket?”

Chirrut nods sluggishly, looking at Baze through hooded eyes. Baze puts the tray down on the floor and helps Chirrut shift down comfortably on the bed, adjusting the pillows. Chirrut throws a hand over Baze’s thighs.

“Stay,” he whispers.

“Of course, Cricket.”

Baze leans back against the headboard of the bed and closes his eyes. One of his hands rests on Chirrut’s arm, the other slowly strokes his back. Sitting like this he listens to Chirrut’s breath go deeper and softer as he drifts off to sleep.


End file.
